


Sins

by Caryn_B



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 01:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9694151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caryn_B/pseuds/Caryn_B
Summary: To pass the time during an uncomfortable night on assignment, Han gives Luke a list that guarantees his full attention.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this is a bit misleading, because it implies this short fic might be more exciting than it is! The title was simply the prompt in a time-limit challenge (30 minutes) set on the old Yahoo group... I used to do a lot of challenges, especially time-limit ones, because sometimes I think the only way I can get anything written is to have an actual deadline!

It wasn't much of a place. Short days, long dark nights, and little to do to fill the time between shifts. The Rogues had arrived first, and set up a makeshift camp in a disused grain mill. Luke, Han and Chewie had arrived a couple of days later, and found themselves left with a choice of either sleeping in the storerooms or finding floor spots in otherwise occupied rooms. They opted for the storerooms as being marginally preferable to sharing the same room as Wes Janson's used socks.

As far as comforts went, it didn't really have any. There was no proper lighting, the shower was an icy blast of water from an upturned bucket, and meals were standard issue ration bars that looked like congealed sawdust and tasted like nerf fodder.

The assignment itself didn't offer much excitement to offset the boredom of waiting. It was a straightforward enough job. A tip-off received about a meeting between a couple of ex-Imperial Generals, presumably to plot another campaign to rid the galaxy of the Rebel Alliance and its irritating need to restore freedom everywhere. The Alliance's contact had provided names, and a run of dates to cover. Now all they had to do was watch, and hope the information was worth the trouble they were taking.

Han wasn't happy, and gave frequent, long and rambling diatribes about how the victors in war were meant to see some of the spoils. Things hadn't been this bad since Hoth, but even that was beginning to look luxurious compared to this place.

"It's only for a few days," Luke reasoned. "And nobody made you come."

"Didn't they?" Han grumbled. "Funny thing that, memory. Plays tricks on you."

"What're you talking about?"

"I seem to remember you bribing me into coming here. Something to do with getting out of Madine's staff party."

"I'd hardly call that a bribe. More like a lucky escape. Anyway, you leapt at the chance."

They were lying in one of the storerooms, their shift finished, and nothing to do but pass the time until the next round of duty. It was the middle of the night, and both supposed they ought to try sleeping. But time differences, long shifts, and erratic mealtimes had left them out of sync with everything. Besides, the lack of warmth and the damp mustiness of the room meant falling asleep was more difficult than it might have been.

Han had his feet up on a box of moldy grain husks and his head on a rolled up blanket he'd brought from the Falcon earlier on. Luke had rigged up some sort of lamp in the room using a glowtorch and a power booster from his X-wing's hold. Along with a feeble, wavering light it gave off a faint smell of burning. Han wondered how long they had before they managed to set the place on fire – glowtorch powercells weren't designed to run off starship-duty boosters.

Han couldn't see Luke at all, because the storeroom was divided in two by a steel contraption that looked like an instrument of torture, but was more likely to have been used for grinding grain. Whatever it was, they'd tried to shift it to make more room, but it proved stubbornly immovable.

On the other side of this steel barrier, Han knew that Luke lay wedged between a set of synthwood shelves, rank with the residue of past sacks of grainmeal, and the boxes of additional supplies they'd brought from the Falcon. Han had the best place, but when he'd offered to swap, Luke had muttered something about having heard more than enough complaints from Han already, and that enduring physical discomfort was better for his sanity than giving Han something else to protest about.

Chewbacca, who simply couldn't have fitted in the room they were in, had a storeroom all to himself. It was a larger room, and might've suited Han and Luke better, but Han had seen rat droppings in there. He'd kept quiet about them and offered the space to Chewie. After all, if the Fuzzball got hungry, he could always eat the rats.

"Don't ya just wish, sometimes, that we got to stay in a fancy hotel instead of some godsforsaken dive like this?" he asked, directing his question at the steel grinder.

"We're supposed to be unobtrusive. Can you imagine just walking into a hotel and booking in? Everyone knows our faces now. It'd be all over the Holonet before we had time to unpack."

"Yeah, I know that," Han said with exasperation. "'S just wishful thinkin'. Or don't you ever do any of that?"

"Why _wouldn't_ I do any of that?" Luke said, clearly reacting to the note of belligerence Han had injected into his voice.

"'Cause it'd be too comfortable for you. Sometimes I think you just enjoy living like this."

"I don't exactly _like_ it, but it doesn't bother me in the way it bothers you. It's not as though I was used to a life of luxury before."

Hearing Luke speak from the other side of the steel grinder, without Han being able to see him, was disconcerting. Luke's voice sounded disembodied and muffled, and Han couldn't really tell if Luke was making fun of him or not. He sat up, trying to crane his neck round the end of the machine, but all he could see were the boxes Luke was hidden behind, and those were in shadow anyway.

"Well, I didn't exactly live a life of luxury either, y'know," he grunted. "But that doesn't mean I don't spend any time thinking about things I might like to have. Admit it, I bet even _you_ did that on the farm."

"I always wanted more freedom," Luke acknowledged. "When I was younger I imagined all my friends spent most of their time getting together and having fun. I was always working, and Uncle Owen never liked me going off anywhere."

"Yeah, well I never had anyone tellin' me what to do. But I did get to wonderin' what it'd be like. To have someone worrying about you."

"You take it for granted," Luke replied. "And then, when it's too late, you realize what you really had. At the time, I just thought Uncle Owen's main concern was the harvest. He needed me on hand to keep up with the workload. Obviously, I know now that he just worried about me going off in case I discovered anything, or someone found me. He only wanted to protect me, and I just wanted to fight free of it."

Han shook his head, unseen by Luke. "That's just normal – you can't blame yourself for that. It's not as though you knew there was anything you needed protecting from. And given a choice of living it up in Anchorhead or monitoring vaporators, I know what I'd have gone for."

"The most exciting thing that ever happened in Anchorhead was a power failure. Or listening to Biggs and Fixer arguing."

"So you couldn't get up to anything sinful there?"

"Hardly," Luke laughed. "Besides, Uncle Owen would've heard about it and I'd've been grounded for weeks."

"So is that all you wanted? More freedom?"

"Back then it was, pretty much. And trying out for the Academy – but that was tied in to the same thing really. It was a way of getting off Tatooine. And even though I thought my friends were getting up to everything under the suns, they probably weren't – and it wasn't really what I was after anyway."

"But what about now? After all, you've _got_ the freedom, even if you don't use it like you could."

Luke was silent for a moment. "A hot shower would be nice."

Han snorted derisively. "Don't go over the top will ya? I'm talkin' about the things you're not supposed to want, but want anyway. I mean, you know what's out there now don't you? You could have pretty much anything."

"I don't know what you're trying to get me to say." A retaliatory note had entered Luke's voice. "If you want me to admit that I'm boring because I'm not interested in the kind of lifestyle where everyone's out for what they can get – then I'll just admit it."

"I'm not tryin' to get you to say that, and I don't think you're boring. In any case, I know for a fact that you've got a thing for drallafruit spirit, and if that's not sinful I don't know what is."

"Right. Caught out, I guess," Luke said, and Han could hear the grin even if he couldn't see it. "So if I said I wouldn't mind some of that right now, would that keep you happy?"

"I can't offer you any drallafruit spirit, but I have got some Sullustan brandy in the bottom of one of those boxes," Han suggested.

"If the guys find out, we'll have a party in here."

"Well they ain't gonna find out. And we haven't got another shift for hours. So dig it out will ya? Even if you don't want any, I do. Might help me to get to sleep."

For a few moments there was the sound of rummaging followed by the welcome clink of a bottle on the duracrete floor.

"If I roll it to you, you can catch it."

"You have it first. It'll warm you up. I told you we should've brought along those other blankets."

"I didn't say I was cold."

"You didn't have to."

Han could sense Luke smiling, and heard the familiar pop of the bottle stopper. At least the fiery warmth of the brandy would help alleviate some of the chill that got right into their bones after a few hours in this place. He reached out his hand to grab the bottle that Luke rolled unerringly towards him.

"You keep asking about me, but what about you?" Luke asked. "Doesn't seem like you're making the most of your opportunities either. But as you've told everyone a million times, you've seen it all and done it all already, so maybe there's nothing left to go for?"

Han stoppered the bottle. "There are lots of things I haven't done. And lots of things I still wanna do. 'S just that I figure my best way to get the things I really want is staying right where I am."

"Well what are they then? There's not much hope of finding anything decadent on Alliance assignments!"

"Depends on what you think's decadent, doesn't it? I mean to you, it's a sin to waste water, or use your fame to get what you want. Chewie thinks it's a sin to eat vegetable stew in preference to freshly killed meat. I reckon it's a sin to walk past a perfectly good bar, but Madine'd think it'd be a sin to walk in."

"I'm glad I asked," Luke murmured dryly.

"And then some people might think sarcasm's a sin," Han returned. "Especially from a Jedi."

"Good job I never use it then." Han could hear Luke attempting to turn over into a more comfortable position. "Have you finished your lecture on philosophy yet, 'cause I'm still waiting to hear about all the things you've got some secret longing for?"

"It's a pretty long list," Han warned.

"I thought it might be."

Han removed the stopper from the brandy bottle again. "Well, for one thing I'd like a brand new hyperdrive for the Falcon. And I could do with a new pair of boots..."

"Those are top of your list?" Luke asked incredulously.

"Nah – not top, but pretty high up. You didn't let me finish did you?"

"Go on then – I can hardly wait to hear the rest."

Han swigged from the bottle. "The things I wanna do most? Go to Jespinar to see the Raxxian Cluster. Find a mate for Chewie, 'cause it's been a long time and he's getting grumpy. Fix the sensor dish on the Falcon 'cause it doesn't look like Lando's ever gonna do it. Have a lot of sex with Luke Skywalker. Find a bottle of pre-Empire Corellian brandy. That's a few of 'em. Not necessarily in that order."

This time there was total silence from the other side of the steel grinder, and Han lay there wondering if he'd finally hit on something that meant he got to have the last word. The problem was, he didn't want it to _be_ the last word, especially when he wasn't able to gauge Luke's reaction.

"You can _say_ somethin'," he muttered eventually. "As long as it's not gonna be about how I've had too much to drink, 'cause you know that's not true."

"Why?" Luke asked. There was no need for him to specify just which item on Han's list he was questioning.

"All the obvious reasons, and a lot of other ones too," Han said.

"They're not obvious to me."

"You want another list? I can do that."

"I don't know," Luke replied. "I'm still thinking about your first list."

"What about it?"

"Well, you mentioned they were just a few things. Maybe you've got a lot of other names on it."

"No – just you. You're thinkin' this is some kinda conquest thing, aren't you?"

Luke didn't reply, but Han could visualize his shrug. "I can't hear you when you just shrug," he pointed out.

"When you've done one thing on your list, d'you just tick it off and move on to the next?" Luke asked, his tone carefully even.

"Depends what it is. With some things, if I ever got the chance to do 'em, I guess I wouldn't want to stop."

Another long silence from the other side of the room prompted Han to attempt further explanation.

"Listen, Luke... what I said, I know it came out like some cheap throwaway line, but it wasn't meant to be. You're not part of a long list of things I'm gonna count off one by one. It seemed an easy way to tell you, that's all. And like I said, I've got a lot of reasons and I want you to hear them. But not with this goddamn stupid machine stuck between us."

"Why did you choose _here_ to say something?"

"I didn't choose it – it just worked out that way. Anyway, where would've been better? In front of Madine, or Leia? In the middle of a planning meeting? In the bar at night with the Rogues? We don't get much time alone together."

"I know," Luke acknowledged.

"Anyway, you asked me. But I've gotta be honest with you – I lost interest in all that casual stuff a long while back. These days, I want a lot more."

Again, there was no reply from Luke, but this time there wasn't silence either. Loud thumping noises and muttered curses came from Luke's side of the grinder.

"What're you _doing_ over there?" Han asked, frowning.

"Trying to get out of this space. You're the one with all the room remember."

"You're gonna leave aren't you? Where're you gonna go? With Chewie and the rats? Or with Wes?"

Luke's sudden appearance round the far end of the steel barricade startled Han. It was the first time he'd set eyes on him since they'd come back off shift and settled in their respective sleeping slots, and somehow he looked different. He also had more clothes on than when they'd arrived back, presumably in an attempt to stave off the cold of the place.

"I'm not leaving," Luke said quietly.

"So what _are_ you doing?"

Luke held Han's gaze for a long moment before replying, and Han felt hope uncoil and spread its warmth inside him.

"Locking the door." 

~end~


End file.
